Written by NormLindsayadmirer
13 Feb 2017
A Fantasy in Four Parts
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19 minute read
A fantasy in four parts
When he had arrived at the address she had given him, he found himself at a modest house on about an acre of land. It had a thick screen of shrubbery and trees, but there was really nothing to distinguish it from thousands of other houses anywhere in the country. Nothing except the fact that she lived there
He had met her on-line, an older woman with a vivid imagination, and though he had never seen a photograph, the way she wrote excited him the first time he read a message from her. By the time they had progressed to phone calls he decided he just had to meet her, but she kept him hanging: teasing, cajoling. Her voice alone excited him and if the phone rang his heart leaped in his chest anticipating that it was her calling. Her voice husky and dripping the honey of promise, he imagined her stroking herself and fondling her nipples as they talked. Shivering at the recollection, he walked to the front door, his way lit by a soft exterior light.
He was about to knock, when he noticed the manila envelope at his feet, his name printed on the outside. Tearing it open, inside was a key and a note: “Let yourself in and go to the second door on your left down the hall.” He was there in half a dozen strides, his breath quickening. Opening the door, he found himself in a softly lit room, its main feature a king-size bed in the centre and a wall-length built-in with mirrored doors. There was another note on the bed along with a bulky cloth bag closed by a drawstring. What’s going on? Where was she? Is this some sort of set-up? His mind was racing.
“Open the bag,” the note read. “Put on the robe and the blindfold and lie on the bed.”
He shook his head, but followed the instructions. The blindfold was so efficient that no light at all penetrated; he felt mild panic for a moment, but by taking deep breaths he managed to remain calm. Time passed slowly and he was beginning to feel a bit nervous. What if this was an elaborate plot set up by a couple of deviates? His mind began to race with all sorts of possibilities and he had just decided to grab his clothes and leave when he heard the sliding door on the built-in being opened. His body tingled and he could feel his hair standing on end – part fear, part anticipation of what might be about to happen. There were no footfalls, the thick carpet saw to that, but he sensed that someone was standing by the bed. Then it hit him – his skin tingled as he caught the musky smell of sandalwood and, even more exciting, the unmistakable perfume of woman – warm, wet, willing woman.
A fingernail traced the length of his leg then dragged across his cock on its way to his stomach and chest, finishing its journey by gently prising apart his lips and teasing at his tongue. His cock stirred as another fingernail teased and prodded at the darkening knob. The fingernails went away and he felt the weight of a body apparently kneeling next to him on the bed. What happened next sent shocks throughout his body, causing his breath to come in short quick bursts: he felt the weight of ample breasts being dragged over his body, beginning at his cock. He shuddered as he felt the silky texture slide over him broken by the drag and slightly rougher feel of the nipples, hard and erect. They dragged across his face, only to be jerked away as he flicked his tongue at a nipple. They returned to his face again, and again were dragged away as he attempted to nuzzle at them. “Hell,” he thought, “I shouldn’t have told her I was into boob worship!”
He waited for her to caress him again, but instead felt the bed rock as the woman turned around, kneeling with a leg either side of his torso, and began to drag the weight of her tits along his legs and once more over his cock until her cunny, redolent with musky woman scent, was millimetres from his face; so close in fact that a stray pubic hair was teasing his lower lip. He flicked out his tongue, then let out an involuntary yelp as fingernails pinched his rapidly engorging knob. The sweet-scented cavern moved back again and again he jumped – or would have if he could – as the fingernails dug into his shaft. Though he was not yet entirely hard, it was nevertheless painful. “Okay, okay. I’ve learned my lesson,” he whispered. The cunny now became the centre of his world as she ground hard into his face, forcing the wet love curtains apart as she moved it from side to side across his mouth. He was in an agony of want but wasn’t going to give her the satisfaction of reciprocating.
He moaned, then, “Fuck this,” he thought. “She told me she liked being dominated.”
Pushing hard, he forced her off him. Ripping away the blindfold, he gasped at the sight before him.
She had described herself as voluptuous, but that didn’t do her justice – her body’s curves and mounds suggested silken cushions created to welcome and comfort a lover; to tempt his hands and lips as he sought to unlock the secrets she kept at the core of her being. Her shoulder-length hair, tousled now, framed a face that expressed nothing if not womanhood, her dark eyes glowing and large in her face. She was wearing a calf-length, sheer muslin garment that buttoned at the front but was open all he way down. Her right side was fully exposed, but on her left, the flimsy fabric had caught on a prominent and obviously hardened nipple. Obscured behind the translucent garment, the breast teased his gaze.
Her full, rounded breasts were partially engorged, the dark aureola forming a backdrop for the erect, slightly lighter nipple; her pubic mound, full and round, hinted at delights to be found there. His gaze swept over her again, the light in his bright blue eyes intensifying as he focused on what had drawn the gasp from him. Her cunny was so swollen that the lips seemed to fill the space between her legs. As he stared, her hand dropped, and she parted the curtains with two fingers, allowing him to see the brown–pink sanctum of her holy of holies, then, slowly the hand was raised to her mouth. Her tongue darted out from between full lips, licking and flicking. She stared hard at him, fixing his gaze and directing where he should look – not at her, but to the bed. On the pillows a confusion of sheer silk scarves was piled, whispers of colour and hints of sensual caress made palpable. He looked back at her and she smiled, once more flicking her tongue at him and shifting her weight from one leg to another, causing a barely perceptible movement of her enchanting breasts.
He turned back to the bed. Taking one of the scarves he tossed an end over her shoulder, reaching behind her to take the loose end and form a collar for her neck. He gently tugged, moving her to the bed, where he turned her, knees against the mattress, and gently pushed her on to her back. Lifting her legs and turning her to lie along its length, he loosely tied the improvised collar to the headboard. Slowly, he took another scarf from the pile, dragging its butterfly weight over her body and causing a shudder to run through her. He opened the scarf and draped it over her face. He repeated the process, covering first her breasts, then her pubic mound.
He climbed onto the bed and knelt beside her. Leaving the scarves in place, he gently kissed her, forcing her lips apart with his tongue, but applying only the slightest pressure with his lips. He shifted his efforts to her cheeks, then her eyelids, licking gently. The silk was becoming a barrier as strong as steel, yet as vulnerable as gossamer. Now he moved to her breasts, gentle nibblings and pinchings now playing counterpoint to his teasing tongue. Smiling inwardly as he felt her body beginning to rise to him, he eased the pressure of his caresses. His tongue dragged over her stomach and then his mouth was on her cunny, covering it entirely as he sucked and probed with tongue and lips, trying to draw the Goddess’s being from her inner sanctum, the silk frustrating both of them. Then he stopped, leaning back on his heels. He heard her breath coming in deep, short pants, and watched her shifting her body slightly, from side to side, using the cheeks of her wonderful arse as a fulcrum.
He took his cock in his hand and began replicating the work of his tongue, but this time beginning at her cunny, teasing, prodding, anointing the silk with the pearls of his longing, the prelude to the great Sacrifice to the Goddess.
Her moans delighted him as his cock probed at her clitoris, willing it to rise to his longing. Resisting the impulse to remove the scarf and enter her, he began to flick at her nipples with the now thoroughly wet cock. She tried to press herself against him, but a gentle hand pushed her back down as he guided himself in circles around the entire breast, first the left, then the right and back to the nipples again.
Now it was stroking her neck, the side of her nose, her cheeks, her eyelids, and then tracing a line of moisture along each lip, gently prodding at them, parting them beneath the silk. Dark circles in the silk now almost obscured her face.
He rocked back on his heels once more. He slowly dragged the scarf from her face, teasing her as he lifted it from the skin.
“I don’t even know your proper name,” he breathed, his voice husky with his wanting.
“Ishtar,” she answered, the word almost a moan. “You can call me Ishtar.”
Closing his eyes, he drew a deep breath then, without warning, seized her ankles, bending her legs at the knees as he did so. He moved quickly, positioning himself right in front of her beautifully rounded bum, the inner edges of its cheeks glistening with the copious offerings her cunt had given up. Moving forward, he felt her legs drop over his shoulders, exposing her to his eager mouth. An animal-like moan escaped her as he buried is face in her cunny
Rolling the lips with his fingers, feeling with tongue and teeth for her clitoris, now engorged and prominent. He sucked on her – hard – and felt her rise to him, increasing the contact.
In response, he sucked and probed with even greater force while she, barely aware of what she did, rolled her head from side to side, moaning as if in pain. With no lessening of his ardent effort, he reached with one hand into the pile of scarves, now damp with her lust and reeking of female. So transported was she that she felt nothing as deftly he tied a scarf to each of her ankles and, with one last intake of breath, drawing her clitoris to his tongue, he freed himself from the embrace of her legs. Before she was even aware that he had left her cunt, both legs had been pushed almost vertical and tied to the bedhead.
Rolling to one side, he got off the bed, standing by its side to stare at his still-panting captive. Swollen and almost purple, her cunny gleamed with their mingled juices, her sweet nectar and his saliva coating the velvety outer lips and her arse, now glowing with a pinkish tinge, testament to her excitement. She turned her head towards him – as much as her silken restraint would allow, and with one hand reached for his cock, now thoroughly wet with the precursor of a sacrifice still to be offered. He stepped out of her reach and drew two more scarves from the pile, using them tie each of her hands to the vertical splats of the bedhead. Fixing her with his eyes, he seized his cock, and began gently stroking, watching her lips part as beads of man honey fell into the hand he had cupped underneath the swollen head. Smiling, he reached over to wipe her lips and cheeks with the wet hand, anointing her lips and cheeks with the libation of his desire. Abruptly he turned away and walked from the room. She tugged at her restraints, but they held. A minute passed, two, then she heard a car door slam outside. Panic rose in her chest – was he leaving? Leaving her like this? To her relief he re-entered the room, carrying a small hold-all made of some type of velvet. She noticed also that his cock was now flaccid. Shit – had he walked outside naked? She did note, and not without some satisfaction, that his cock was still glistening with moisture; at least she’d had some effect!
Dropping the bag at the foot of the bed, he rummaged inside it, taking out something wrapped in a satin of the deepest red. Walking to where she could see him, he began to unwrap the cloth. Revealed to her was a cat-o’-nine-tails with lashes of the softest black kid leather and a handle about 15 cm long, made of what looked like silicon. The same deep red as the satin, it was shaped like a cock, complete with veins, though somewhat narrow. He squeezed the handle, and her eyes widened as she saw the head flare outward, like the mantle of a cobra.
He took a couple of small steps back and then gently laid the lashes over her stomach, drawing them slowly down till they were laying on her mound, just above the entrance to her clit’s sanctuary. Lifting the whip, he allowed the lashes to drop back onto her cunt so that she could feel their weight and softness.
He withdrew the lashes and touched her cunt with the handle. She felt it pressed gently at the lips of her cunny, involuntarily drawing a breath. The head flared, the sensation causing her to shudder…the tip moved downwards from her cunt, probing at the cheeks of her arse. She held her breath as she felt it pressed gently against the entrance. The head flared quickly, three times in succession caressing her cheeks, then just as quickly it was withdrawn.
“What are you doing?” Her voice was soft and throaty, almost a whisper. “Why are you tormenting me? Please, please, make love to me.” Then her muscles tensed as she felt the kid-leather cat tails strike the backs of her thighs, just below her arse. It was a strange sensation and felt a thrill run through her, despite her initial shock. “What the fuck is happening to me? She asked herself.
He was just drawing his arm back, when a car, headlights on high beam, pulled into the driveway. He heard the door slam, and a few seconds later the unmistakable “snick” of a key in the front door.
Eyebrows raised, he looked at her. She was smiling; a sly, provocative gleam in her eyes. He was about to speak, but was stunned into silence by a commanding female voice behind him: “So, playing little games are we?” He turned to face the voice and saw a tall, slender woman standing in the doorway. Hair cut short and spiky, she was wearing a chunky gold necklace and heavy gold earrings. A figure-hugging cheong-sam accentuated her full breasts, the nipples clearly outlined beneath the fabric, and the thigh-length slits accentuated her long, lithe legs. Flimsy sandals held in place by fine chain straps completed the picture as she stood there, supremely confident in her womanhood.
She walked towards him, smiling, and grasped his cock with long, strong fingers, pushing them down to the base. His cock, which had begun to shrivel, sprag to rampant attention again. He felt her nails pressing into the shaft as she dragged her hand back along it, a nail catching the flange. She challenged his eyes with hers as she withdrew her hand: “Untie the woman,” she commanded.
With a grin that betrayed the excitement he felt, he walked to the bed and released his plaything from her bonds. The woman sighed and stretched, her breasts lolling as she wriggled and squirmed, then began to finger herself, probing and caressing. “Why Astie, what a great surprise.” Her remark was addressed to the new arrival.
“Hi gorgeous,” came the husky reply. “What’s this naughty man been doing to you? Are you feeling okay?” Astie walked to the bed; bending at the waist she lightly kissed her friend’s cheek. Then she straightened and with her back to him demanded: “Unzip me, man.” He stepped forward and doing his best to control his shaking hand, unzipped the dress the full length of the fastener, just above the swell of her buttocks. He was about to answer their invitation with both hands, but thought better of it as, in one fluid movement, she pulled the garment over her head, dropping it to the floor. The sandals followed and, arms raised and bent like an oriental dancer’s, whirled on bare feet to face him. His knees threatened to betray him when he looked at her. Full breasts – a mature woman’s breasts – set off by beautifully symmetrical nipples, a slender body, long narrow feet and long legs set slightly apart where they met her pelvis. She thrust her pelvis forward and he gasped as the folds of her cunt moved. Not as full-bodied as her friend, she was nevertheless voluptuous. The woman may have been different in build, but they were equally beautiful, equally appealing. His brain was in a whirl of lust and rapture.
She pushed him backwards until he felt the bed press his thighs and continued to push until he gave in, allowing himself to collapse on the bed. Both women fell on him, biting sucking, scratching. He felt teeth and hands on his cock, nails delivering exquisite torture to his skin, and then a wet, lascivious cunt pressed into his face, blocking any chance of enjoying the sight of their bodies.
A mouth slid down his cock, the tongue flicking, teeth nibbling all the way to the pubic bone. Teeth grasped it and slowly dragged upwards, increasing the pressure at the head. A tongue flicked at the eye and he tried to thrust upwards, but the cunt pressed harder into his face, holding him there. He flicked at the clitoris with his tongue. The pressure increased so he sucked hard, feeling the woman squeeze his face with pleasure. The mingled scents of lust and longing were driving him wild. Just as he thought his cock – his entire body – was about to explode, they stopped. The women were kneeling beside him on the bed, one at each side, and smiling.
Ishtar had a handful of scarves. “Come here, man,” she gloated. “Your turn.” All thoughts of dominance had fled. He was theirs, entirely theirs. He moved to help as they tied his arms together at the wrists, then used another scarf to tie them to the bedhead. Ashtie had joined several together and now turned to tie his spread-eagled legs to each corner of the footboard, giving him an enchanting view of her delightfully rounded bum and entrancing cunt.
Ishtar cupped his balls in one hand and with the other held his cock still and upright while Astie licked and nipped at the shaft, causing him to jerk and wriggle, partly in pain but mostly in paroxysms of pleasure. On the point of orgasm, they stopped. Working rapidly, the women freed his legs, then removed the scarf holding his bound hands to the headboard. With Astie roughly stroking his cock, Ishtar led him towards a heavy, silky-oak dressing table, to which mirror stand she tied him, allowing just enough slack to allow him to turn and watch the bed. He might not have been there. Ishtar was kneeling over Astie, her face buried in her cunt as the other woman moaned and gasped in pleasure, her hands reaching for Ishtar’s breasts, tweaking and stroking. Then Astie pulled a pillow behind her head, bringing her darting tongue and parted mouth closer to Ishtar’s cunt, both women now losing all control, biting, groping and pinching. Then as one, both women gave voice to loud yells as the torment gave way to blessed release. Jerking and twitching, the clutched each other tightly as the spasms eased, slowed and stopped. With their breath still coming in deep, sucking gasps, they turned to look at him, their faces slick and gleaming with their gifts to one another. “Ready man?” Astie, smiled at him – a sly, almost demonic grin.
He looked down at his cock, the veins bulging, the knob now almost black. He couldn’t speak. His mind had gone to that place from where only a woman’s touch could bring it back. The both walked towards him, Ishtar carrying one of the pillows. Astie cupped his balls, while Ishtar dropped to her knees on the pillow, catching his cock in her mouth and squeezing with her lips. His moans grew louder and more intense. Ishtar rose to her feet. Untying him, she led him closer to the bed, tying him close to the bedhead. Both women sat side by side on the edge, facing him. Four hands pulled and tugged at his cock. Tongues licked his stomach and nipples. His cock swelled, becoming harder and harder. The women felt the reaction in his cock signalling the onset of his release and immediately ceased their efforts. Smiling at his discomfort they began to masturbate, their cunts still wet with their lovemaking emitting the wonderful sounds that only a satiated cunt can. The man groaned, sucking in a deep breath as he came. With no embrace from hand, cunt or mouth to sustain him, his cock began to shrink almost as his Goddess sacrifice left him.
Astie looked at him. “We won’t make you clean up your mess, but we’ll leave you there to calm down while we have a cup of tea. Then you can go home. You have pleased me a little and Ish considerably, we might use you again. I won’t see you again tonight, Ish will see you out. Check your email regularly.”